The Patron
by EdinGrl640
Summary: It's been three years since the end of the war and lives have largely been settled. Having refused employment offers based purely on her membership in the Golden Trio, Hermione Granger is working a low-paying job at the Ministry of Magic and struggling to make ends meet. What happens when one Lucius Malfoy takes an interest? HG/LM
1. Chapter 1: Pride

**Chapter 1: Pride**

When her supervisor at the Ministry of Magic exclaimed merrily that she had arranged a lunch meeting with a potential mentor, Hermione did not anticipate that said mentor would be in the form of one highly aristocratic, pure-blooded wizard named Lucius Malfoy.

To her utter shock, he was quite professional throughout the meeting and offered numerous tips on navigating the dicey world of ministry politics. Hermione was finding the lunch to be fairly enjoyable on the whole. At least, until the bill arrived.

Placed gingerly on a silver platter garnished with delicate jewels and etchings, the presentation befitted the price tag. An itemized work of art, inspiring jaw-dropping awe in the beholder. Hermione's jaw certainly did just that as she caught a glimpse. A quick mental calculation confirmed that her portion would cost no less than half her upcoming wages, plus tip. Indeed, she rarely ever carried that much on her person - never mind spending it all on a single lunch, no matter the quality of the career advice received.

Lucius watched her appraisingly, seeming to be well aware of her predicament and greatly intrigued by her unflinchingly stoic response. It was, he decided, quite admirable of her. Almost what one would expect from a pureblood.

Until she produced a wizarding credit card from her purse.

"I should apologize, Ms. Granger. I confess I did not put much thought into choosing a place for luncheon," Lucius spoke with a kind of softness that might almost be confused for apology. "I would be delighted to cover the bill."

Hermione would nearly believe it, except that she was quite certain he had put a great deal of thought into the selection. To what end, however, she couldn't discern. Surely, it was already clear that there was a great disparity in both their wealth and blood statuses. Perhaps he merely wished to see whether the mudblood would choose her money or her pride when push came to shove.

"That's hardly necessary, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione flashed him a tense, but polite smile. "The meal was most enjoyable. An excellent choice."

It seemed she had chosen her pride.


	2. Chapter 2: Hunger

Chapter 2: Hunger

The following week was a long one for Hermione, who had found nourishment primarily in a few boxes of macaroni and cheese and ramen noodles. Her tastes had never been particularly outlandish anyways, but there was a mild hunger in her belly that never seemed to be fully satisfied. While she could have asked Harry for a loan, which he would have granted in a heartbeat twice over, she could not bring herself to explain her destitute circumstances. Nor did her busy schedule allow for popping into the Weasley's homestead where sustenance would be all but forced upon her.

It was half seven and she was curled on the sofa with a rather large book and a cuppa when a brisk knocking echoed through her apartment. Opening the door, she found herself face to face with one Lucius Malfoy.

"Good evening, Ms. Granger."

The letters that may have formed coherent words seemed to slide right off her tongue and she was left gaping, rather fish-like, in her dressing gown. Lucius smirked with pleasure at the sight.

"May I come in, Ms. Granger? I will only take a moment of your time."

WIthout awaiting her answer, he gently brushed past her and into the small studio apartment. She momentarily wondered whether he had apparated there and, if so, how on earth he knew her address in a primarily muggle part of London. He glanced from her bed to the kitchen and finally rested his eyes on the collection of books lining the walls.

"Do all muggleborns live so… _compactly_?"

An angry fury rose up in her and she curled her hands into fists involuntarily.

"Mr. Malfoy, I have _no idea_ what you're doing here or why you think you have the right to enter, much less comment upon my housing choices. I think you ought to leave immediately."

Lucius ignored her. He strode further into her kitchen and used the tip of his cane to budge open the refrigerator.

"Interesting muggle contraptions, these things. Though, I'm given to understand they are supposed to actually contain food."

"That's quite enough!" Hermione roared, stomping over to the finely dressed figure who so casually intruded in her evening and her life. "I'm sick of these _games_. You know very well that we don't all have family inheritances to live off of and I'm sure you can more than guess what my earnings are. Why are you really here?"

Lucius cocked his head, as if in consideration. With a snap of his fingers, a house-elf appeared, its overly large head obscured by two large brown paper bags brimming with vegetables, fruits, meats, and cheese. It began organizing the contents in her cupboards and refrigerator.

"I'm not a fucking charity case, Malfoy."

Though she had to admit, the box of French macaroons the house-elf was setting on her counter _did _look scrumptious.

A devilish glint lit up Malfoy's eyes as he followed her gaze to the petite delicacies. "No, but it was unfair of me to toy with you as I did and I've found myself feeling… remorseful, shall we say. Allow me to ease my conscience. Please."

The hunger that had laid at the pit of her stomach all week suddenly reared its head and incapacitated her willpower. She sighed heavily.

"I'll make us a pot of tea."

"Thank you, Ms. Granger."

Lucius crossed the room and took a seat on the sofa. He rested his cane against the edge and watched as the young woman moved about her kitchen in that natural way that came from ingrained familiarity with a place. He noted that she looked quite skinny - more so than would have been expected, even given the last week.

As she handed him his cup of tea, he inquired, "If I may ask, why have you not asked your friends for assistance? Surely Potter would-"

"Harry has his own family to provide for and I would never ask him- or anyone else- for a handout."

"Ms. Granger, surely you of all people cannot be that dense. The wealth the Potters have stored in Gringotts is more than your friend and his family could ever hope to spend."

"Yes, well, bully for them," she snorted derisively at his rude observation.

"I'm merely pointing out that you have no reason not to avail yourself of your connections. It is exactly how such families accrue their fortunes in the first place."

"It's just not who I am. I want to earn my way in the world - I realize that's a concept you may not be capable of understanding."

Lucius laughed lightly and took a sip of tea, "I can see you're going to be terribly difficult about this. Tell me, how easy would it be for you to find another apartment in central London?"

"Why? Are you interested in a muggle flat in East London?" Hermione scoffed.

"Let's say I buy it. The whole building and convert it to luxury condos. Maybe some upscale retail shops on the lower level."

"Are you trying to _threaten_ me?"

"Not if you swallow your pride and let me assist you."

"I've told you that I don't want your-"

He held his hand up in protest, rather garish rings adorning several fingers.

"Hush now, Ms. Granger. Here me out. My house-elf will bring you groceries once a week and a bag containing a small sum of galleons. In turn, you will accompany me to Ministry events that require a plus one whenever the need arises. Perhaps two or three evenings a month," Lucius calmly explained as if such an offer were a regular occurrence. "I believe the muggle phrase is 'tit for tat'."

"You're trying to pay me to be a literal escort?" Hermione balked.

"I do find you very amusing, Ms. Granger," Lucius grinned. "Don't force my hand here. It would be terrible for a promising young talent like yourself to be suddenly found the victim of a budget shortage at the Ministry. Merlin knows, there's enough of that going around."

Hermione blinked dumbly. If it were anyone else, she wouldn't take such threats seriously. This was Lucius Malfoy, however, and if she had learned anything about the man by now it was that he took a seemingly sadistic enjoyment in playing the puppet master.

"You're absolutely _vile_."

Lucius set his teacup down calmly. He leaned closer, pressing his torso towards her side of the sofa and whispered in her ear, "When needs must, my dear."

Confusion swam in her eyes and, finding no life vest to withstand the storm, she nodded in defeat.


End file.
